


The Sun-Warmed Sea

by Venturous



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venturous/pseuds/Venturous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Holidays dredge up the memories for us all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun-Warmed Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Margo_Kim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margo_Kim/gifts).



> **Written for:** The Armed Bastards Holiday Exchange at [Martian Holiday](http://martianholiday.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Prompt:** "Phyllis  & Nelson after hours"  
> 

Nelson pushed the last drunk copper out and, flipping the sign to 'closed', leaned back against the door. Closing his eyes he allowed himself a momentary rest. Weariness wafted up through his limbs like the air off the sun-warmed sea. Until a sound startled him, eyes open. Someone was still here.

The gal’s loo door slammed behind Phyllis as she staggered to the nearest table and sat with a thud. He glided to her side, “Closin’ time, luv.” He waited politely for an answer. When she failed to respond he risked touching her arm. She was a copper, after all.

“Oh! Happy Chrissmuss, Nelshun” she shot him a muzzy smile. “Bring me another, that’s a good lad.” She brightened, clearly seized by a new thought. “And come on, ‘ave an ‘oliday nip, on me.”

Nelson looked at her and smiled, “Coming right up, Mizzuz Officer.” He saluted her and ducked behind the bar. Pouring two ginger ales over ice, he added lime and a cherry for a bit of cheer and returned to see her drooping over the table. “Happy Christmas to you, Miz Phyllis, and here’s to your good health!”

She jerked her head up, eyes wide, narrowing, then beaming him an unguarded smile. “Nelson! Happy Christmas to you, lad. What’s this concoction here?” She examined the drink.

“Ah, madam, this be de specialty of Kingston Town, a Bamboo Fizz. You add de lime and de ginger and de rum and stir ‘em all up. Ah, mum, it takes me back.” He stretched his long legs out, leaning back and smiled the widest grin she had ever seen. “Yeah, lord, wouldn’t I love to be back home this time of year, yes ma’am.”

Phyllis studied him, sipping her drink. She scowled a bit at the fancy fruit and the sweet taste. Not her usual pint o’ bitter, no. But the gesture warmed her, and she wondered for the first time what it must be like for Nelson, so far from home, especially on the holidays.

She looked around the pub, saw the mirror which was sprayed with a snowy flocking and framed with holiday lights. Tatty tinsel garland hung from the shelves with red balls at intervals. Phyllis took note of the plastic palm tree and hula girl in the ‘snow,’ around the little creche that shivered under the mirror.

“When were you last home, Nelson?” He opened his eyes and sat up primly, folding his long limbs and looking at her thoughtfully. It was an expression she had never seen on him before. Nelson was always acting the part of the jolly servant, laying on the heavy patois that his customers expected. Now he spoke the perfect Queen’s English.

“I left my islands when I was a lad of twelve, mum, and have not been back since that day. How I would love to see the sun set over that sea again.” He looked a bit dreamy. Phyllis recalled her own childhood visits to Blackpool, visiting the shore with her gram, something she hadn’t thought of for many a year. She saw a young girl running down the wet sand chasing an outgoing wave. Her sister. Dead now.

“No, lass, not that frigid grey strait! The warm turquoise Caribbean sea, fragrant with night jasmine, shimmering in the moonlight. I can see it: Christmas lights wrapped all up the palm trees, oh, yes. And the music on the breeze, that is the way.” His face lit up.

She shot him a suspicious look, but her copper instincts told her he was quite sincere. She tried to imagine a warm Christmas and was unsuccessful. Suddenly she dreaded going home to her empty flat. Nelson stood and offered his hand.

“Come, Mizzus Officer Phyllis. We shall go to Kingston Town for Christmas, and you will see.” She stood, drawn by his eyes, and didn’t wobble at all. He took her elbow and guided her toward the door, then helped her on with her coat.

He opened the door onto the chill of night, snow flurries fluttering down. Phyllis wrapped her thin coat around her. Dousing the last of the lights, Nelson decided he could finish cleaning up in the morning and locked the door.


End file.
